By Order of the Exalts
by HellfireSupremacy
Summary: If Gangrel rose to power on a message of death and hatred to Ylisseans, it is only because Ylisse so ravaged his countrymen as to leave them craving such a message. If Frederick devotes himself completely to Chrom, it is only because he sees in his exalt something worth completely devoting himself to. Once upon a night of fire their stories collided; herein lies the tale.


**This gets dark. You've been warned. **

By Order of the Exalts

"Something troubles you, Milord?" Sir Frederick knew it was not in Chrom's nature to be mopey and sullen on plain occasions; much less the night of his greatest victory to date as commander of the Shepherds.

"I was just thinking of Walhart; the way all those men fought and died for him even in the end, when they knew all was lost…they…I could never…"

"…Milord?"

"Do you think I'm a strong leader?" Chrom suddenly asked. Frederick thought he sounded very much like litte Lissa fretting over whether or not she was a 'good princess,' but would never tell him so.

He said only "Why ever would you doubt it?"

"Everything Walhart did, he did with such confidence. There was never a doubt in his mind. I can't do anything without second guessing myself and consulting Robin. I could never lead an army of one million men, or give the command to sack a city..."

"Nor would I follow you if you could!" Frederick rebuked, harsher than he had intended. "You have too much of Emm in you to walk the path of the conqueror! Your doubt is your sense of justice! If you second guess yourself it is only because you are always asking if your actions are righteous and just; It is because I know you are a man who would never order me to a sack a city that I so devote myself to your service!"

"…Frederick…"

"Ahhhh; forgive, milord." Sir Frederick bowed his head. "I did not mean to be so direct. This battle must have tired me more than I thought for me to forget myself so; I shall rest so I may be of better service to you come the morrow."

The great knight retired for the evening and left Chrom wondering what had prompted such an outburst.

Frederick fell asleep that night dreaming that old dream of the night from 25 years ago…

* * *

><p>Gangrel was a boy of 12 when the Crusaders came to Natefka.<p>

"**YLISSEANS!"** the watchman raised the alarm, and the commons recoiled.

Some escaped before flying cavalry shouting **"PUNISH THE HEATHENS!"** and "**DEATH TO THE GRIMLEAL! DEATH TO THEIR GOD!**" flew overhead and hurled flame javelins upon their city, setting thatch-roof cottages aflame and smoking out their residents. Most didn't.

The Order of the Exalts rode Natefka's fleeing villagers and rammed at the city's gates. When their siege lines broke through and a thousand screaming footmen poured into the breach, they smashed every stall and torched every home and raped and killed and plundered.

Gangrel hid behind his father's forge while an armored knight broke the old blacksmith's hands and stole his best steel. But when they meant to take the blacksmith's daughter and the knight put a lance through the old man upon protest, the boy Gangrel had yelped. And the murderous knight had found him and forced him to the yard.

"Wyndum and Dennehy got the pretty lass," the knight who had killed Gangrel's father reported to an older,portlier man grown bloated off the spoils of war. His corpulence overflowed his armor, as though to tell the tale of how he had spent more time drinking to excess and liberating Plegian border towns of their foodstuffs then fighting Grimleal. It was before this man that the murderer asked "What do you want to do with the whelp?"

"Let your squire have a go at him; its about time he proved himself. FREDRICK!" the fat knight called out.

"This is wrong, sir." A boy of 15 answered.

"Don't forget yourself, maggot!" the murderer gave the boy Fredrick a good smack on the head. "You're talking to Captain Winthrope!"

"By Order of Exalt Mikolos VII, this city is to be _**PURGED**__. _Kill him like the rest." Captain Winthrope the Corpulent instructed.

"And if I refuse?" Frederick may not yet have earned a knight's title, but he had a knight's honor.

"…INSOLENT…" the murderer raged and made to tell off his bold squire, but Captain Winthrope cut him off.

"Listen boy and listen well; you're the best damned fighter I've ever seen. You could make Squad Captain by 20 and Battalion Commander by 25. You'd be First Lieutenant at least already if you just rubbed elbows with the right people; savvy? Stop being such a pain in me' arse, and I'll put in a good word for you with The General."

"This is WRONG!" Frederick raged and Gangrel trembled at the sound of maidenfolk being violated.

"Are you disobeying a direct order from The Exalt?" Captain Winthrope challenged.

"I am telling you that any man who could follow such an order does not deserve to call himself a knight!"

"Be a feckin' blacksmith then; this is knight's work." Captain Winthrope partook of his flask.

"_**THIS **_is what it means to you to be a knight of Ylisse!?" How Frederick wished he could unsee the things that he was seeing.

"Mikolos VII wages war against the Grimleal. Mikolos VI waged war against the Grimleal. Mikolos V waged war against the Grimleal. The Exalts pick the wars, and we fight them, and whatever we do on the side is our business."

"Aye; here's a wee one!" Sir Wyndum and sir Dennehy returned with a girl Gangrel's junior.

"Let her go!" Frederick commanded.

"Easy there lad; you'll get a go at her too," Wyndum threw his captive to the ground.

"If you touch her again, I'm going to kill you." Frederick warned.

"You're going to kill all four of us ya' sniveling shit?" Dennehy guffawed.

And then 15 year old Frederick drew his sword and did precisely that.

"With me!" Frederick rallied the refugee children and led them to safety. "You will hate Ylisseans for what they did here today; for this I cannot blame you. But at least know that there are good men among us as well as bad," he told them in parting.

Gangrel would remember many things about that day. Frederick's parting words were not one of them.

In 5 years the boy Gangrel would rise to captain commander of the Free Plegian Army, driven by an unquenchable hatred of all things Ylissean.

In 7 years Exalt Emmeryn would sit the Ylissean throne and do the unthinkable; renounce the Crusade as unjust and abhorrent and end the war in Plegia.

In 9 years the people of Plegia would thirst for a man with an unquenchable hatred of all things Ylissean, and the bitterness of their defeat and humiliations would bring the Mad King to power.

In 10 years Fredrick would return to Ylisstol from his self-imposed exile to appear as a nameless champion at the Exalt's tornie, win, and confess his treasons and insubordinations to Exalt Emmeryn at his dubbing. Upon which Exalt Emmeryn would embrace him, proclaim him to be a Champion of the Peace, and raise him to Knight Commander of the Realm.

In 23 years the Mad King would look down upon the Knight Champion and laud the murder of his exalt. The Mad King would make war once more, and Sir Frederick would strike the blow against him to end it.

But these were things that two scared boys could not know as they fled from a burning city.


End file.
